AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The woman’s tears began to flow. She nodded before murmuring something aboutgetting a doctorand fled the room.
Moments later, a doctor rushed in, steering clear of the bags on the floor. The woman trailed behind, stopping inside the door.
“Dexter, my name is Dr. Davison. You’ve been in an accident. You’ve been in a coma for about a week now. Your aunt said you’re having some memory trouble. Do you,” he paused, looking over his shoulder at her then back at me, continuing in a hushed tone, “do you remember her? Do you remember anything?”
I shook my head, noticing locks of hair swinging as I did so. It felt foreign. I never let my hair grow that long before…before what?“I don’t know anything. I don’t know her, I don’t know me, and I don’t know you.” I looked over at her, then whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Dr. Davison held up his arms, perhaps realizing I was under severe stress in that moment. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m only looking for a starting point. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the last thing you remember?”
Talking to the Angel of Death.
I couldn’t tell him that. Instead, I told him the closest thing to the truth that I could. “Nothing. I remember nothing about Dexter’s life.”
It wasn’t technically a lie. I knew how to talk, how to make facial expressions to convey my emotions. I was sure I knew things people my age did, whatever my age was. I could remember how to turn on the television in the corner of the room and how to read the name badge on the doctor’s white lab coat. I knew that, in order to stop a car, I had to press my foot on the brake. Anything other than general facts was blank.
“You don’t remember your parents? Doctor, if he doesn’t remember his parents, I—” My aunt threw her hands up in defeat. “I can’t give him those memories back. They’redead.”
I shifted to straighten my spine and understood her tears. A legacy was gone.
“Now, he may regain his memory. All is not lost. But you have to be patient. These things take time. Let’s be happy he came out of the accident alive and in one piece,” Dr. Davison reasoned.
When he said the wordaccidentagain, I realized I still didn’t know how this body had gotten here. “What happened?”
The woman’s shoulders sagged on an exhale. “We had a disagreement. You ran out into the road and, before the car could stop, you were hit. I thought for sure you were gone, but they managed to bring you back. Scariest moment of my life,” she said, placing her hands on her chest.
“Is the driver going to be okay?” I asked.
Dr. Davison shook his head before he answered, his voice somber, “In his attempt to avoid you, the driver and passenger…they didn’t make it.”
My eyes took in the woman’s reaction, and her lips trembled as she stared at the ground.
It was typical for someone to say the deceased were in a better place, but they truly were. Or I was quite possibly losing my mind. Even if my dream was real, I didn’t make it to the pearly gates.
No one’s eyes met mine and, in this moment, my body felt so tired. Entirely too tired for a person who’d just woken up from a coma.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
It was only once I spoke that the doctor looked up from his clipboard. He set his free hand on my foot and smiled. “Yes, well, any loss of life is a tragedy. But life continues on. And yours certainly will, young man. You have a traumatic brain injury, your knee is fractured, and your rib nearly pierced your lung, but you’ll be as good as new in a few months. We’ll get surgery lined up for you tomorrow morning for your knee, and that should go smoothly. The orthopedic surgeon will stop by later today and discuss the procedure with you. Let me know if either of you have any questions.” Then he turned to the woman and said, “Uh, Ms. Andrews? A word, please.”
She didn’t return until she thought I was asleep. I watched through cracked lids as she picked up the contents of the bags she’d dropped. I heard her near-silent sobs as she sat beside me, her hand clutching mine.
It was the first time she touched me.
I wondered why it’d taken so long for her to seek comfort in me, like she felt the only way it was possible was if Dexter was asleep. It made me sad.
So, I let myself fall asleep, giving her privacy as she sought the comfort she needed in the way she accepted it.
Dexter
Your body will heal.But that isn’t the real objective here, is it?
The words rushed past me as I neared consciousness.
Why is that voice so familiar?
Is the Angel of Deathhelpingme? Giving me advice?
Does that mean he’s real or is it a side effect of having a car nearly take my life?
